


fille désabusée

by justamessedupkid



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, One Shot, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, because it isn't talked about enough on the show, delphine opens up to cosima, delphine's past, lots of angst and the slightest bit of fluff, rated mature to be on the safe side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justamessedupkid/pseuds/justamessedupkid
Summary: "You know when I was at boarding school, there was a girl I knew very well and she attempted suicide. She slit her wrists in the bathtub but it wasn't enough. She should have cut the metatarsal arteries on top of her feet too."Another take on Delphine's past and what happened at boarding school. Delphine wants to share everything with Cosima, but for that to work she has to open up about her most well-kept secret. The second she starts talking, she is right back in the body of her 17-year-old self who felt there was no way she could keep on living.
Relationships: Delphine Cormier & Cosima Niehaus, Delphine Cormier/Cosima Niehaus
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	fille désabusée

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this because i couldn't stop thinking about delphine at boarding school and how the girl who attempted suicide she described to shay was probably herself. i hope some of you feel the same and appreciate this.
> 
> tw for self-harm, suicidal thoughts and suicide
> 
> i am not a native english speaker and i don't have a beta, so i apologise for the mistakes i've certainly made. do feel free to correct me if you find any. you can find the translation of the french words at the end.
> 
> i really appreciate feedback, so don't hesitate to leave a comment!

I - present

Delphine and Cosima are lying in bed, tangled up in each other. Cosima is resting her head on Delphine’s shoulder and the taller girl is absently playing with her girlfriend’s dreads.

Suddenly, Delphine stills the movement of her hands. For a moment, they are both silent. Then, Cosima hears a sharp intake of breath.

Delphine is at war with herself. She has never felt as safe as she does here, with Cosima, in bed. Still, there is something weighing her down, trapping her, making her not 100% Cosima’s, and she can’t bear it.

She has never said the words out loud and she doesn’t even begin to know how to. But she loves this unique, quirky girl with all she has got and Cosima deserves to know.  
Even if it is too much. Even if it means Cosima won’t ever look at her the same again. Even if it means the end. Delphine doesn’t know what she would do if that were to happen. She can’t think about it. But, she tells herself, it wouldn’t be surprising. After all, she doesn’t believe she deserves Cosima’s presence in her life anyway.

She notices how her body has tensed up at the thought of losing the love of her life and takes a deep breath. Breathe, she tells herself, you’re alive and you deserve to be happy. She repeats it like a mantra. It helps, but only a little.

Cosima knows something is off but she is unsure about how to address it. So, instead of saying anything, she subtly lifts her head to look into her girlfriend’s eyes. What she sees scares her. Delphine’s eyes are dark with unspoken pain and sorrow.

Cosima offers what little she can give to soothe her love’s pain. “Talk to me?”, she suggests quietly. To her relief, Delphine nods. But as she opens her mouth, no words come out. Instead, her eyes quickly fill with tears.

The brunette tries to say something, anything, to help but Delphine quiets her with a soft finger to the lips, making Cosima feel the prickly sensation triggered by Delphine’s touch on her skin.

When the words finally come out of Delphine’s mouth, they seem uncertain but at the same time determined. “I… I need to tell you something.” Cosima nods encouragingly, desperate to hear what is causing her love this much pain, so that she can start to think of a way to make it go away.

“I… merde. I don’t even know how to have this conversation. I- I’ve never talked about this with anyone, you know? But I need you to know.” Delphine’s voice sounds almost pleading and all Cosima can think to do is snuggle up closer and whisper: “Take your time. I’m here. Always.”

II – 17 years ago

Delphine tried to supress a yawn – unsuccessfully. It was 2 am and she was the only one in her dorm still awake. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Her head was just… too loud… and she knew she had to ace the exam the next day. So, she shifted her focus back to the biology book illuminated by the torch in her hand.

The next morning, Delphine wasn’t awoken by her alarm. Instead, she jumped awake as she was hit by cold water. She let out a high-pitched scream which provoked laughter. Still half asleep, she tried to get a grip on the situation.

She seemed to have fallen asleep while studying – again. And that meant that her precious biology book was drenched in water now. Putain, putain, putain. She couldn’t stop the flow of curse words that invaded her thoughts. But she didn’t say anything out loud.

She barely looked at the culprits – though she was certain that all her roommates had assembled for this clearly hilarious morning activity – as she ran out of the room and locked herself in the bathroom.

As soon as the door had closed, tears started falling. One look at her book told her that it was a lost cause and so she just hugged it close to her chest and sank to the floor as sobs rocked her body. Outside, she could hear the other girls giggling.

When she finally had the courage to open the door again, everyone had already left for class. Merde- class! Delphine risked a quick look at the clock and immediately felt nausea rising up in her. She was late, so late. And it was exam day!

It was clear to her now why this had happened today of all days. School was Delphine’s life, and biology especially so. And these stupid girls had endangered everything.  
Delphine got dressed and ready as fast as she could and ran to class. When she burst into the room, every head turned to stare at her. She blushed furiously and was about to run when she heard her teacher speak.

“Miss Cormier. How nice of you to join us. Here’s a copy of the exam, take a seat. We’ll talk about this later.”

She nodded quietly and quickly found her seat. Behind her, she could hear sniggering. She wished it would stop. Why couldn’t it all stop?

“Pute!”

Another round of laughter erupted, and the teacher glared in its general direction. That made the laughter stop. But it didn’t stop her brain from repeating the insult over and over again. Pute, pute, pute, pute, pute…

Delphine desperately tried to concentrate but the world seemed to blur in front of her eyes. She knew there was no way she would be able to complete this exam.

She spent the rest of the day hidden away in the library, unable to face anyone. Frankly speaking, she wasn’t even able to face herself. But there wasn’t exactly a way to flee from herself.

Delphine tried to silence her brain by reading but it wasn’t working. How had she become so utterly alone? Why did she feel like ever since starting boarding school, her body was nothing but an empty shell that didn’t even belong to her?

Many students here were hard-working, focused on their studies. She wasn’t the only one that was sorely lacking in terms of a social life. After all, this was an elite school. Then why was it always her? The target, the punching bag?

Because you deserve it, she heard herself think. And it was true, wasn’t it? What did she have that would make anyone like her? Genuinely like her, and not just the slightly creepy attention she got from some of the male staff – hence the insults thrown at her.

Not even her parents bothered enough to want to keep her around. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here. And now, with how she had failed the exam, not even her grades would get her parents attention – at least not in a good way.

She could already hear her father’s disappointment, her mother’s sighs. Them saying that maybe they had overestimated her, that she wasn’t good enough after all. That she had embarrassed them.

When a tear dropped on the open page of the book she was pretending to read, she noticed that she was crying again. Weak. Why was she so weak? Why couldn’t she defend herself? Why did it hurt so much?

That night, she hurt herself for the first time.

When she was sure that everyone was asleep, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. She only meant to get some privacy to cry. At least that is what she tells herself afterwards.

She doesn’t even know, how exactly it happened. Inside of her head, everything was loud, everything was chaos. She just wanted it to be silent for a second. She just wanted to breathe. There wasn’t any air and there wasn’t any way to form a coherent thought and her body wasn’t hers anymore.

Her razor was on her shelf – so close, so convenient. She felt her body make a step, then two towards it. She felt her hands taking out the razor blade. She felt the cold metal against her skin.

Somehow, the razor blade ended up against her thigh. Somehow, it ended up cutting through her skin, enough to draw a considerable amount of blood. Somehow, the sharp pain was able to make the world stop crushing her.

Just for a second, everything was clear. Her head was empty except for the pain. Her body was more present than it had ever been. And everything she had been feeling suddenly had a place.

Then, it was over. The pain faded and the world came flooding back in. And with it, the realisation of what she had just done. She didn’t find a better solution than to quickly clean up everything, including her wound, and return to bed as if nothing had happened.

After all, what even had happened? It was nothing, an accident. She had lost control for a second. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about it, aching for the short relief the pain had provided.

And, so, the accidents kept happening.

She did it to be able to keep living, Delphine reasoned. It was a necessity. But then, something happened. And Delphine wasn’t so sure she wanted to keep living anymore.

In hindsight, it couldn’t have been more cliché, more immature. But that didn’t mean it hurt less.

It was Valentine’s Day, which Delphine wouldn’t even have noticed, were it not for the annoying tradition of sending roses and cards during class. In all seriousness, who had thought that this was a valid reason for interrupting class?

But normally, she would have just shrugged it off. If it made other people happy – and from the looks of it, it did – then why not. It didn’t mean she had to participate in this crazed obsession over who got how many cards and from whom.

That was, until she got her first card. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even notice her name being called. But then, everyone around her suddenly seemed to stare and giggle and she looked up into the face of a ridiculous looking boy dressed as Cupid.

She knew it was a joke. She knew no one would actually send her a genuine card. Still, she had to make an effort to act indifferent as she opened the card and saw the word “whore” stare back at her.

But she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking down. Stone-faced, she stood up and walked over to the bins, ripping the card apart before throwing it away. Then, she sat back down and got back to work as if nothing had happened.

She got nine more cards that day. She didn’t even bother reading them, just threw them away right as she got them. She had a pretty good idea of their content. When the day was finally over, she fled back to her dorm. But what awaited her there made her turn on her heel and run back out.

Her bedsheets had been ripped apart and smeared with a mix of mud and blood, or so it seemed. Her schoolwork was crumpled and spread all over the floor around her bed. And, on the wall above her bed, red letters were clumsily painted:

Pute. Monsieur Berger envoie son amour.

M. Berger was her Chemistry teacher. He was brilliant, and she had read some of his work before starting school. So, when he showed particular interest in her, she was flattered. After all, he was one of the best in his field.

He told Delphine she had potential, that she was special. He would call her to his office during lunch breaks and she was glad to go because she didn’t have anyone to sit with anyway. They would talk and he would give her fascinating books to read.

He was the only person Delphine felt like she could talk to. Until she couldn’t. Until he began stroking her hand while talking. Until she could feel his stare on her body. Until he invited her over for the evening.

Delphine wasn’t stupid, she knew what was happening. She declined politely. And from thereon out, tried to avoid being alone with M. Berger – which was difficult as she was almost always alone. But she managed to prevent any further advances. She was being rational about it, she thought.

She hadn’t told anyone though, and she didn’t exactly know why. Maybe because she knew nothing would come of it. Who would even believe her – nothing really had happened? Maybe because she didn’t want to endanger her Chemistry grade. Or maybe because of the shame she felt, although she couldn’t say what she was ashamed of.

The point was, she hadn’t told anyone. So how did they know? How had her classmates found out? And what did they think had happened?

Too many questions were flooding Delphine’s head and she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Her hands were trembling like crazy and her vision was starting to blur. She had to lie down, so she slipped into the nearest empty classroom where she curled up into a ball on the floor.

Delphine woke suddenly, as if something had startled her. She looked around, alert, but there was nothing. She did, however, realise that she had fallen asleep on the classroom floor. As if on autopilot, she got up and walked mechanically back to her dorm.

The mess on her bed hadn’t been cleaned up. She could still see it in the dark. But it wasn’t enough to bring her conscience back to life. Instead, she quickly assured herself that everyone was sleeping and then locked herself in the bathroom, as she did so often.

At this point, the process was automatic. She pulled out the razor blade and disinfected it with the spray she had always ready now. She got rid of her trousers and pressed the blade into her thigh that was already covered with many thin white lines.

This time, the relief didn’t come though. She felt the pain, felt the blood running down her leg and staining the floor. But her head wouldn’t stop spinning and the voice wouldn’t stop screaming pute pute pute…

She knew that she couldn’t bear it any longer. She was so fucking lonely and it was her own fault. She wasn’t made for this world; she didn’t know how to exist in it. And she would always be alone, mocked.

She deserved it. Surely, had there been anything likeable about her, someone would have helped her. But everyone agreed – she was a fucking whore and she deserved to hurt. She included herself in everyone.

But she was weak. Weak, weak, weak. She couldn’t stand any more hurt. And, to be honest, she couldn’t stand any more of herself. She just wanted it all to end. Why wouldn’t her thoughts stop spiralling?

Everything happened through a haze. She got up; her body suddenly determined. Her hands fiddled with the water tab until hot water was pouring into the bathtub. She didn’t even bother to undress, just got in. The hot water hurt in a good way – it was soothing.

When the water went up to her chest, she turned off the tab. She wouldn’t be able to describe what she was thinking at that moment. Her body was somehow detached from herself. All she could do was watch – one part of her cheering on the actions, the other – considerably smaller – part screaming for her to stop.

Delphine weighed the cold metal blade in her right hand. Without hesitation, she slit her wrists. First, the left, then, before all her force left her, the right. As she felt her body become heavy and light at the same time, as her vision faded to black, she was oddly calm.

This was it. This was the relief she had been looking for.

III – present

Cosima is trying hard to keep it together but Delphine can see that her love is on the verge of tears. Still, she has to keep talking because she knows that she won’t be able to again.

“Contrary to what I had thought, one of my roommates was in fact awake and when I didn’t come out of the bathroom, she tried to open the door. I think she was more annoyed than concerned because she needed the toilet.

Anyway, she woke the other girls and when I didn’t open the door, they got one of the staff. Apparently, I was very lucky”, Delphine laughs humourlessly. “A few more minutes and I would have been gone.”

Cosima swallows dryly. This is a lot for her to process and it rips her apart that her girlfriend had to experience all this suffering. But she knows that she can’t let herself go. Delphine deserves for her girlfriend to be strong, to bring her comfort if possible.

“The school and my parents agreed that it would be best not to draw attention. It would have been bad publicity for everyone involved.”

Cosima can’t supress a scoff. She hugs her girlfriend even tighter.

“I got sent back home and spent the rest of the school year under surveillance at my parents’ house. I transferred schools and we never spoke of it again. I moved on. I promise you that I have moved on from the scared, lonely girl I was then. I found science and then I found you and-“

“Delphine”, Cosima interrupts softly, for the first time. “You don’t have to justify anything, okay? I love you. And I am so proud of you for talking about this with me.”

“You are?”, Delphine questions, uncertainty evident in her voice.

“I am, I promise. I love you now like I have always loved you, like I always will. And if you want to talk more, I am here. But if you don’t feel like talking, I totally get that. Whatever you think helps.”

Delphine can’t help but smile at those words. What has she done to deserve this woman? She leans in for a kiss that the smaller girl immediately reciprocates. It is soft and soothing, and it feels like a promise.

“Je t’aime”, Delphine murmurs as they break apart. “I think we have talked enough for now. Would it be okay if we just cuddled for a while?”

Cosima’s radiant smile is answer enough.

**Author's Note:**

> "pute" - "whore"
> 
> "putain" - literally: "bitch", but used in the sense of "shit"
> 
> "Pute. Monsieur Berger envoie son amour." - "Whore. Mr. Berger sends his love."


End file.
